


Know Your Name

by connyhascontrol



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: But I promise there will be a happy ending, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Smut, also some angst I'm so sorry about that, coach Trixie, soccer mom Katya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connyhascontrol/pseuds/connyhascontrol
Summary: People talked. It didn’t matter how big or small a town was; it didn’t matter that it was an expensive private school. Katya heard it all: that she cheated and he kicked her out, that he's gay and moved in with his younger lover, that he found out she's actually a man. People were so desperate for drama that they couldn’t imagine two adults sitting down, facing the truth, and deciding together what was best for them.Despite all that, Katya hadn’t expected Trixie to mention it, even if she knew. Trixie didn’t get involved in the parents’ personal business.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 46
Kudos: 163





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic back in February and then put it aside for other projects. I finally finished it and I'm really proud of it. A huge thank you to [mattepinkallshades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattepinkallshades/pseuds/mattepinkallshades) for proofreading this. You made it a better fic and I'm so grateful to you for everything.
> 
> Part two of this is finished and will be posted next Saturday! [Here's](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/16sXuyjtwyhLhwVhLwlbZs?si=mq8xysPzT6O7TW2egtrvVQ) a playlist for this fic. The title is taken from the Mary Lambert song.

"I'm sorry to hear about your divorce." 

Coach Mattel’s words took Katya by surprise even more than the gentle touch at her elbow did. They happened to stand next to each other after a game, the coach miraculously not swarmed by overeager kids and parents for a moment. Her gentle voice and eyes told Katya that she meant it. They won; it was supposed to be a moment of celebration, but the soft voice had taken Katya right out of it.

She hadn’t known the gossip made it all the way into the teachers’ lounge. And it was old news already. By the time Coach Mattel --  _ Trixie _ \-- showed up in their lives, Katya and Brian had already lived separated for a few months and were going through the arduous task of splitting their possessions. Their marriage was long over by then, only formally held together by a piece of paper, a ring Katya felt naked without now, and the love for their daughter. Ava had been a desperate attempt to keep their relationship alive, which Katya knew wouldn't work from the moment they started trying. She was eight now; it was a miracle their marriage held out this long.

The divorce wasn’t messy, just sad. Brian had always been a good guy and a good dad. They just didn't love each other enough to make it work. That was the real tragedy, that nothing was wrong, but never quite right either. It gave Katya her daughter, which she was always going to be grateful for, but they'd decided they both deserved to find somebody who made them happy.

People talked. It didn’t matter how big or small a town was; it didn’t matter that it was an expensive private school. Katya heard it all: that she cheated and he kicked her out, that he's gay and moved in with his younger lover, that he found out she's actually a man. People were so desperate for drama that they couldn’t imagine two adults sitting down, facing the truth, and deciding together what was best for them.

Despite all that, Katya hadn’t expected Trixie to mention it, even if she knew. Trixie didn’t get involved in the parents’ personal business. It felt like a triumph every time Katya managed to make her laugh with a stupid joke; that was as personal as they got.

“Thank you.” She gave Trixie a small smile, not sure what else to say. Trixie’s deep brown eyes were looking down at her with compassion and Katya wanted to say that it was okay, that  _ she _ was okay, but it felt like that would have been assuming too much emotional investment from Trixie. Besides, Katya didn't want her to be sorry; she wanted her to be hopeful.

Ava found her shortly after that and barelled into her, her little arms winding around Katya’s waist and squeezing tight. At some point Trixie had let go of her, and Katya was trying very hard to not be disappointed. As she was telling Ava what a great job she did, with one eye she watched Trixie get beset by kids and parents equally eager for praise which she doled out with a patient smile. 

There was no changing room at away games; the kids had all arrived already in their jerseys, so there was little reason for them to linger. While Ava said goodbye to her teammates, Katya packed away her stuff in a backpack, her eyes never completely leaving Trixie.

She didn’t look like a coach. Her shiny blonde hair was always in two thick french braids. It was a hairstyle she was too old for; Katya knew that because she was too old for it too. She wouldn’t be caught dead with braids anyway. But it worked for Trixie which Katya found irritating. Especially because the first time she laid eyes on her, Katya wanted to wrap them around her hands and pull.

Trixie was also curvy, a fact her boxy t-shirts and sweatpants couldn’t hide. She looked like she belonged in vintage swimming costumes with little ruffle skirts around her broad hips or dresses with sweetheart necklines that flared out around her knees. 

Her voice, however, was all coach. She bellowed across the field with disturbing ease and wielded her whistle with certainty and power. It shouldn't be hot, but it was.

Katya had been there for Ava's games and picking her up from every practice before Trixie took over the team last year. She had no interest in soccer herself but she wanted to be supportive of her kid's interests. So Katya spent her Saturday mornings on the bleachers, cheering her on. And then came Trixie, making those mornings something Katya genuinely looked forward to. 

She got about half a second of Trixie’s undivided attention when they said goodbye, and then Ava was running towards the car and Trixie had to turn towards another family. Katya had no choice but to follow her daughter and head home. 

All of that was  _ before _ .

*

The first thing Katya learned about Trixie was that Ava  _ adored _ her. Before, her coach had been a somewhat grumpy and very large man who Ava was always a little apprehensive around. 

Trixie was not just a woman, but she was fun, and talked to the kids like they were just small people. When she actually met Trixie a week later, Katya only had to take one look at her round face and giant tits to know she was in trouble. She was immediately charmed by her stupid bird caw laugh and the way she twirled the ends of her braids around her fingers. Katya didn’t miss the once-over Trixie gave her, nor the raised brows and the smirk that followed it. In between the striped blouses and pastel polo shirts, Katya stuck out like a sore thumb. She knew that the other moms called her a slut. She never even wore anything revealing; she just had taste.

They were gravitating towards each other. After practice they often happened to walk towards the parking lot at the same time, Katya late because she didn't see the point in hurrying Ava to change, Trixie because she had to make sure everything was locked up. Ava would run ahead and jump around the SUV while Katya would take her time and linger by Trixie’s car, stretching out their conversation about nothing in particular for another two minutes. Katya didn’t know much about Trixie’s life, but she knew that they laughed at the same inappropriate jokes, both liked doing weird voices, and shared a disdain for the over-eager parents. Sometimes when one of them did something especially Soccer Mom (a term that included some of the dads), Trixie’s and Katya’s eyes would find each other, even halfway across the field, and clearly say  _ Are you seeing this shit? _

Katya wasn’t part of the Soccer Mom Cult. She was definitely on the older end of the parent spectrum, having Ava at 39. Even though she used to have the house and the husband, she also has a full-time job and her maiden name. Katya kept it through twelve years of marriage, which already made half of them assume she was a tyrant and a misandrist. She refused to let her whole identity be consumed by  _ wife and mother _ . In their eyes, it made her uncaring and a bad role model. It also meant that Katya wasn’t in constant communication with her kid's soccer coach because she wasn't totally insane. 

For official news Coach Mattel wrote emails to all the parents, but there was the group chat as well. It was used to communicate that Mackayleigh or whoever had a cold and couldn’t come to practice, exchange links to mommy blogs that Katya never tapped on, and organize post-game parties that Katya was neither uninvited from nor welcome at, as she was well aware. She knew that some of the other parents texted Trixie, asking for tips on how to improve their children's performance beyond the regular training. Katya thought that was psycho, they had practice twice a week already. So she didn’t text Trixie, ever. That didn’t mean that Katya wouldn’t regularly open a new conversation with her, type out a message only to delete it again. 

All that happened between them was knowing glances, hands resting on elbows for a moment, jokes shared by the side of the field, punctuated by one shrieking and one wheezing laugh. From the outside there was nothing unusual about their relationship. They were friendly with each other, but their interactions were limited to the school’s soccer field, or the gym during the cold months. 

Through all of it they were Coach Mattel and Mrs. Zamolodchikova.

And then  _ before _ became  _ after _ . 

*

A week after the divorce papers were finally signed, Katya got an email that practice was cancelled this week since half the team was down with a stomach bug. She arranged for Brian’s parents to pick Ava up after school since she would still be working. On the way home she still drove to school completely on autopilot, ready to pick her up. In the parking lot, Katya looked at her pale hands gripping the steering wheel, a little paler still where her wedding ring used to sit even though she hadn’t worn it in months. She should have just gone home, but instead she got out of the car and walked to the gym. 

The place was deserted; apparently the girls’ soccer team wasn’t the only one hit by the stomach bug. There was a small, dimly-lit office at the end of the hallway, past the changing rooms. The sign on the door read only  _ Coach _ , no name. Katya had only been in there once before, when it hadn't even been Trixie’s office yet. 

Now, she stood in the hallway in front of Trixie’s office and didn’t even hesitate to knock. 

Katya already knew that her first name is Beatrice because it says so in her school email address. Some of the overly familiar parents call her Beatrice, and by the set of her jaw Katya could always tell she hates that. To everyone at the school, she’s Coach Mattel. 

She only found out that Trixie prefers to be known as  _ Trixie _ by accident. One day, Katya happened to be waiting in the hall for Ava to get changed when around the corner Coach Mattel made a phone call. 

“Hey Mom, it’s Trixie,” she happily chirped into the phone. Katya heard it and slowly reached out towards the wall; first her fingertips against the rough surface, then her palm, and finally her entire arm leaned against it. Of  _ course _ she was a Trixie. She was never meant to be a Beatrice. Katya held that name in her mind like a secret pet name, whispered with shaky breath against sweat-shiny skin in the dark, the sound drowning in rumpled sheets.

But it wasn’t Katya’s to say. She was stuck with  _ Coach _ . 

“Come in.” Trixie’s voice was crisp even through the door. Her eyes went wide when Katya stepped in and she got up from her desk chair, coming to meet Katya in the middle of the cramped room. “Mrs. Zamolodchikova.” Trixie always said her name not with effort but with consideration, the syllables clearly pronounced, deliberate in a way Katya never was with it. 

Katya pushed the air out through her nose, not even enough for a snort. “It’s Miss now, I guess.” 

“Right.” Trixie gave her a sympathetic smile. “Practice is cancelled, I sent out an email.”

“I must have missed that,” Katya lied, and then regretted it immediately when worry washed over Trixie’s face. 

“Is Ava not home yet? If you didn’t pick her up--” She turned around and reached for the phone on her desk, yellowed by age. “I’ll call the secretary’s office, maybe she's waiting there.” 

Katya quickly grasped her arm that was extended towards the receiver, and Trixie turned her head towards her.

“She's at home.”

“Oh.”

‘Then why are you here?’ Trixie’s eyes asked, but her mouth didn’t. ‘Because I want somebody to really look at me,’ Katya could have answered. Or ‘Because I want to know I’m not unlovable’. Or ‘Because I’m never not thinking about you.’

Instead Katya simply moved into the small space between Trixie and her desk. Their bodies were only not touching because Katya pressed into the wood, finally scooting her butt up onto the edge. She was still gripping Trixie’s arm, desperate to feel her skin, but only getting the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Her knees bumped against Trixie’s thighs, so Katya spread her legs to make space, her black pencil skirt riding up with it. 

They both looked down at her exposed thighs, Trixie blinking rapidly with her mouth open far enough that Katya could see the pink, wet tip of her tongue. Katya slid her hand on Trixie’s arm all the way to her wrist, and then placed her fingers on Katya’s thigh. Trixie hissed a breath through her teeth, her face snapping up to look at Katya.

“Yeah?”

Katya didn’t know what exactly Trixie was asking. Permission to touch, sure, but what else? Regardless, she said yes. 

She watched Trixie slowly push up her skirt as if it was happening to someone else. These couldn’t actually be Trixie’s fingers inching closer and closer to her panties, simple black cotton briefs because she hadn’t planned on anybody else seeing them today. Once Trixie put her palm over them, Katya was sure she’d be able to feel her swell under her touch. 

“Come on, show me what you’ve got,  _ Coach _ ,” Katya pressed out through clenched teeth, sounding so much braver than she felt. She didn't expect Trixie’s knees to immediately give out, her folding down in front of her own desk with her face between Katya’s thighs, her chest visibly rising and falling with her breaths. She looked up at Katya with heavy eyes, foggy with want, and her mouth hanging open. 

Katya still doesn’t know if Trixie flipped a switch for her or if she did for Trixie, but she found herself wriggling out of her panties and dropping them on top of the papers scattered over the desk. Then she reached for the end of one of Trixie’s braids, resting over the abundant swell of her breasts, and wrapped it around her hand. Closing her fist around it, she pulled. Trixie moaned as she swayed with it, deeper into the vee of Katya’s legs until Katya could feel her breath against her wetness. When Trixie tried to lean in further, Katya firmly tugged on the braid again, but this time in the opposite direction.

“Uh-uh.” Trixie actually whimpered, her eyes desperate on Katya’s face. “I’m not sure you really want it.”  _ Please say you do. _

“I do, I want it so bad, I’ve wanted it for so long, please.” She didn’t at all sound like Coach Mattel. This was  _ Trixie _ , and whatever would happen after all this, Katya would keep the way her soft voice had been pleading with her in a safe place in her mind, ready to be pulled out and enjoyed in quiet moments. 

“Prove it.”

At the first touch of Trixie’s tongue to her swollen lips Katya was sure she would come from just that. She wasn’t actually that far gone yet, but it didn’t take long. Trixie took Katya’s words to heart, ate her out like it was her job and she was hoping for a big Christmas bonus.

Katya came with her thighs clamped around Trixie’s ears, biting her lip hard enough that she thought she’d draw blood. Panting, she reached for Trixie’s round face, pink and wet up to her nose, with a blissed out expression like she was the one who’d just come. Katya cupped her cheek for a second before pushing herself off the desk, pulling her skirt back into place and then walking out, without a word or looking back. She only hyperventilated a little bit in her car before driving home, and Katya didn’t realize she left her underwear behind until she unlocked her front door. 

In the following days, Katya flinched every time she got a notification with a new message waiting for her. She was hoping for the best while preparing herself for the worst. The worst would be ‘This was a mistake, never speak to me again’, the best ‘We should do that again some time, and also have breakfast in bed the next morning’. She didn’t get either. So she figured Trixie was pretending it never happened. That stung, but Katya was a big girl, she could handle it. When she went to pick up Ava after practice the next week, Trixie was perplexingly friendly, her eyes intently fixed on Katya’s, but she didn’t make any allusions to anything that transpired between them. It irked Katya more than a clear rejection would have.

So she had to come back. It took her two weeks to work up the courage. By the time she left work, she hadn’t even made the decision to drive to school yet. That came when she thought about how Ava was staying with Brian overnight, and how going home to an empty house still didn’t sit right with her, even after months of separation and shared custody. So at the last possible opportunity she turned the corner and pulled up in the school’s parking lot. It was late and she was worried Trixie might have already left, but then she spotted the car she spent a lot of time standing next to while chatting with Trixie. She parked directly next to it. 

That time there was no reply when she knocked on Trixie’s office door. Katya wasn’t prepared for that. While debating whether to wait or leave, Trixie rounded the corner into the hallway. She had already changed into jeans, apparently done for the day, and was carrying a clipboard in front of her chest. Like this she really looked like a teacher, and of course Katya knew that she was one, but Ava talked about her differently than about any of her other teachers. Katya also didn’t spend any of her Saturdays with her other teachers. 

Trixie didn’t notice her right away since she was with somebody else, apparently deep in conversation. Stuck at the end of a hallway Katya had no chance to slip away unnoticed, no choice but to stand there and wait for Trixie to see her. When she did, she stopped in her tracks, the other teacher stopping in confusion too. 

“Miss Zamolodchikova! Did we, um, have an appointment?”

“Uh, no, I just had some questions about the upcoming away game, but that can wait. I’ll see you on Saturday.” She quickly pushed past them, even as Trixie opened her mouth to say she’d be done here soon. Katya couldn’t wait there. So instead she rushed to her car and then sat there with her seatbelt on, the key in the ignition, and her hands on the steering wheel, making no attempt to leave. Luckily it was late enough for the parking lot to be almost empty. Nobody saw her. 

It took about twenty minutes for Trixie to come outside and head towards her car. She stopped again when she spotted Katya sitting there. Katya’s heart sank when Trixie got in her own car. Apparently that was the answer, then. They were pretending nothing had happened. 

But Trixie didn’t drive off. From the driver’s seat of her SUV, Katya could only just see one of her hands, resting on the steering wheel like her own were. So Katya finally started the motor, and Trixie did the same. Katya didn’t take the familiar way home, instead heading towards the edge of town, and Trixie followed close behind. The further out they got, the simpler the houses got. Square industrial buildings and warehouses lined the roads until even those started getting sparse. Katya finally turned onto a dirt road, and Trixie’s car pulled up behind her. 

Katya had been there a few times when the neighbors let Ava walk their dog. The road only led to a field, and they had never seen another person around. They were far enough away from the main road that nobody would see what they were doing but if anybody walked by there would be no doubt. If they would do what Katya assumed they would. 

She stayed in the driver’s seat, meeting Trixie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. For a minute they stared each other down. Trixie was the first to move. She undid her seatbelt, and climbed out of her car with sure movements, punctuated by the sound of the car door slamming shut. Katya watched as she walked in between their cars, crossing to the passenger side of Katya’s SUV. Their eyes met again through the window before she pulled the door open and climbed inside next to Katya.

Once again they only looked at each other, Katya’s silence forcing Trixie into action.

"What do you want?" Trixie asked quietly, sincerely, her dark eyes expectantly on Katya.

God. Katya pulled in a shaky breath and expelled it again. She wanted to fall asleep next to the warm body of somebody who was there because they couldn't stand not waking up next to her, not just because that's where they were expected to be. She wanted to go on an awkward dinner date with mediocre food like she knew other middle-aged divorcees endured for another chance at a relationship. She wanted to be the only one of the parents who got to call her Trixie, not at school but over the kitchen counter when they got ready to leave for work in the morning. She couldn't say any of that. Sex was easy. Those wants were more easily satisfied. 

"I want you to make me come." Trixie's calm and quiet exterior cracked, staring at Katya slack-jawed. “Would you like that?” she pressed out with a jerk of her chin, as though it hardly mattered when it was all that mattered. Trixie nodded slowly, emphatically. Remembering how Trixie had reacted to Katya's words the last time, she added, "And if you do a good job, maybe I'll touch you too." The words came by themselves, even as she was certain she would die if she didn't get to touch Trixie. Last time she didn’t dare to ask. 

Katya could see it all working behind Trixie’s furrowed brow as she breathlessly waited for a reply. It came as a tiny nod and a quiet  _ yes _ . 

They climbed over the middle console to get to the backseat rather than getting out of the car. There was a moment when neither of them knew how to start. Then Trixie gripped Katya’s shoulder and gently pushed, so Katya laid down across the backseat, Trixie in between her spread legs. 

Open-mouthed, Trixie looked at her, her eyes huge and almost black in the low light.

“Can I fuck you?”

Despite the breath catching in her throat, Katya put on what she thought was her best teacher voice. “I don’t know,  _ can _ you?”

Trixie forcefully pushed air out of her nose and her still open mouth, something like a laugh, but not quite. She didn’t move, apparently still waiting for Katya’s permission. She gave it by unbuttoning her pants and sliding the zipper down. With her eyebrows raised and her eyes on Trixie’s face, Katya lifted her hips. Still silently, Trixie licked her lips and reached for Katya’s waist with visibly trembling hands. 

Her pants were down to her knees in no time. Her underwear followed, and for a moment Katya felt trapped and exposed. Then, with a soft sigh, Trixie put her hand high on Katya's thigh, right below the crease where it met her torso. Her thumb stroked back and forth. Katya didn't know if Trixie could tell she was nervous and did it to calm her down or if she just wanted to touch her, but it worked. Her heart sped up again when Trixie moved her hand, brushing her fingertips over Katya's lips lightly. Her hips wanted to slam down and force her inside, but her heart was enjoying how gentle Trixie was with her. It seemed almost too sweet for the back of a car parked on a dirt road. 

Then, without any warning, Trixie sunk two fingers into her all the way, and Katya groaned low and drawn out. Trixie  _ could _ fuck her, it turned out. Her hand made an obscene sound every time it slapped against Katya's swollen pussy. Katya came embarrassingly quickly, squeezing her eyes shut because she couldn't bear to look at Trixie's face, heavy-lidded and soft.

She scrambled up on her knees as soon as Trixie pulled out of her, pushing her down with an unforgiving hand on her sternum. Together they managed to pull down Trixie's jeans and the soft pink cotton panties she had on underneath. Katya pushed everything down to her ankles and then ducked underneath to get her head between Trixie's legs, her own pants still hanging forgotten around her knees.

It had been a long while since Katya last did this, and a different kind of nervousness spread in her. At some point, she and Brian had brought a girl home in an attempt to spice things up. She had been younger than them and crude in a way that had been off-putting, rather than sexy. She'd talked to them like she was quoting porn. As soon as they'd made her come, they’d kindly but firmly let her know she was supposed to leave . Their bed had felt bigger that night, like they weren’t enough to fill it out anymore, and Katya hadn’t thought of it in years, until then.

Trixie was the first woman in a long time that Katya wanted to sleep with, and she wanted to make it good for her. The smooth, pink skin of her vulva with a neat strip of dark blonde hair made Katya desperate to know if this was what Trixie looked like underneath her clothes two weeks ago too, or if she did this in the hopes that Katya would come back.

When she put her mouth on Trixie, all the nerves were gone. The act was still familiar, but Katya took her time learning the shape of Trixie with her tongue. Above her, Trixie kept quietly whimpering, and Katya wanted to hear her lose it. When she closed her mouth around Trixie’s clit and sucked, her thighs twitched left and right of Katya’s face. She could feel her mouth, cheeks, and nose growing wetter and wetter by the second, exhilarated by the knowledge that she could do that, not just to any woman, but to Trixie, who was always so in control. 

When Katya slid one finger into her along with her mouth, Trixie’s hips started pumping, chasing whatever she could get. She came in the back of Katya’s car, clutching the headrest of the front seat with one hand, the other buried in Katya’s hair. Katya had moved up her body so she wouldn’t miss a second of Trixie’s orgasm.

Their panting mouths were right next to each other, like they went in for a kiss and halfway through forgot how to. 

Katya didn’t forget. It's the threshold they never crossed. 

In the next three months of irregular hook-ups, most in Trixie's office, some in the back of Katya’s car because it was roomier than Trixie’s, they never kissed. 

In the moments after, when they would be catching their breaths, clinging to each other, Katya would press her face into Trixie's neck. She’d put her lips to Trixie's thundering pulse or behind her ear where her hair was pulled tight upwards into her braids. If Trixie noticed, she never said anything. It was the most Katya thought she could get away with. It was almost enough to convince herself that this was all she needed to be happy.

It wasn’t.

It might have been enough if things stayed that way, but along with her own desperation that was never quite satisfied, Trixie had grown restless with her. 

“What do you want?” Trixie would quietly ask every time, and every time Katya would swallow down her heart trying to spill out.

“Get on your knees,” she would coldly instruct, or, “Bend over your desk.” Katya did want all of those things, but not like this.

Trixie always said yes, and that made everything worse. Katya was certain that she wasn’t doing anything Trixie didn’t want; Trixie wouldn’t agree otherwise. But she felt that it wasn’t enough for Trixie either. All she ever did was expectantly look to Katya and then quietly accept what she was offered. What had started out as anticipation turned more and more into resignation with every time Katya came by unannounced. Their hook-ups started out carrying endless possibilities of what they might become to each other, but they didn’t become anything.

This is  _ now _ , and it’s like Katya is fast-forwarding through a recording of her failed marriage. This time, it skipped the frames where they got to be happy, and now she has to sit and watch them grow apart with jerky movements.


	2. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What do you want? What do you_ really _want?” Trixie asks, not with the breathless anticipation Katya has become familiar with but with anger. It makes her audibly breathe through her nose, her brows pull together, and her jaw shifts slightly forward. In another situation Katya would tell her how hot she looks like this -- because she does -- but having Trixie’s anger directed towards her makes Katya squirm, and not in a pleasant way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello here's part two! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. A huge thank you to [mattepinkallshades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattepinkallshades/pseuds/mattepinkallshades) for proofreading this and for being who you are.

When Brian brings Ava over after she's spent two days at his place, she quickly hugs both of them, and with a rushed  _ hi Mom, bye Dad  _ disappears up the stairs and into her room. Katya looks after her with raised brows, and then turns towards Brian. 

"She has a date to play some online game with one of the Claires, I don't remember which one," he explains.

"Right." Katya nods. It's good that Ava is clearly living her life and enjoying things kids should enjoy. She's just getting to the age where doing good means she doesn't want to spend all of her time with her parents.

"You look good. You look different." Brian gives her a small but nonetheless genuine smile. Through the whole divorce they've never been unkind to each other, but they haven't talked much either. It was too painful for both of them. Today, it doesn’t sting that much anymore, and Katya wants to try.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Brian's eyes go wide in surprise for a moment, then he nods silently.

It's strange to have him sit at the kitchen island while Katya makes their coffees, her own with sugar, his with a dash of milk. That was always his job, and now he's a guest in what used to be  _ their _ house. They drink in silence, both trying to come up with a conversation starter.

"Ava told me how well the team is doing," he finally says. "The new coach really seems to be working out."

Katya almost drops her mug, catching it at the last second before it can completely slip out of her grasp. Of course he would talk about the one big sore spot on her heart.

"Yeah, she's… she's great," is all Katya offers up without looking at him, and she can feel his eyes on her.

"Okay, what's the story here?" Brian asks, and when Katya looks from her mug to him, his face is smooth and open. It's how he always looked at her when she'd come home from work late and frustrated, and she'd rant until she felt calm and in control again, with him either silently listening or offering comments when it was needed. He was always a great listener.

She sighs. There's no point in not being completely honest with him. He knows her too well. Katya quickly closes the kitchen door to make sure Ava doesn’t overhear, and sits back down with him.

"I've been hooking up with her."

He looks at her in stunned silence for a moment. Then he offers a little  _ huh  _ and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Ava told me that you like her, but she didn't say that you _ like  _ like her."

"Oh my God." Katya rolls her eyes when he grins at her. “I’m having sex with her, not putting anonymous notes in her locker.”

“Then what’s got you so worked up?” His face is still calm. She hates when he already knows the answer to what he’s asking, and just wants to see if she does too. 

Katya leans her face on her hand, and through her squished up cheek she mumbles, “I do  _ like _ like her. But I haven’t told her.”

Brian nods. “Do you have reason to believe she isn’t interested?” Of course Katya doesn’t have to tell him why she hasn’t told Trixie. For as long as he was her partner, he was also Katya’s best friend. Maybe he still is. Could be again.

“I-- no,” she admits. “It’s not just that. She’s Ava’s teacher, I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Right, that’s why you’re fucking her.”

“Shut up!” she wheezes, pushing her elbow into his bicep, and he almost spills his coffee. “How do you know she’s not fucking me?”

“Oh, please. We were together for fifteen years, and I didn’t fuck you once. If she can, she’s a really special woman, and you should definitely tell her how you feel.”

Katya only hums. After a moment of silence she adds, “It’s still so early after… you know, us.”

Now it’s Brian who rolls his eyes at her. “This is literally the reason we got divorced. So we could both find somebody we really love. But you gotta let yourself try.” He sets down his mug and completely focuses on her. "Listen, I know you. You have a tendency to avoid things that are good for you." 

“That’s not true, I’m taking care of myself,” she objects with a frown. His hand settles on her arm, squeezing lightly.

“Is that why you’ve lost weight? And why you’ve not been sleeping?” His voice is low and gentle, the same way he talks to Ava when he’s explaining to her that she needs to go to bed, not because he doesn’t want her to have fun but because otherwise she’s going to be miserable the next day.

“I’ve gotten better at sleeping,” she says quietly, looking down at his hand. 

“I know. I can see that.”

“It’s hard.” Suddenly there are tears clinging to her lashes, and she blinks a few times to clear her vision. Brian’s arm comes up around her shoulders.

“It is.”

Katya quickly wipes her tears away, and Brian lets go of her. “What about you? How are you holding up?” She gives him a critical once-over. He’s been looking small and tired over the last few months too, but now he seems to be recovering. Brian is sitting upright in a way she hasn’t seen in a while.

“You know. Getting there.” He extends his index finger and pokes her thigh. “I miss you.”

She pokes back. “I miss you too.”

The wall they’ve carefully built up brick by brick over the last couple of months starts to crumble, and Katya can breathe a little easier again. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed talking things through with him.

“We should do this more often.”

“We should,” he agrees, and then points out, “We  _ can _ . Nobody is stopping us.”

“True.” Katya peers into her mug and finishes the last sip of her coffee. Brian does too, and she expects him to stand up, but he doesn’t let her off the hook so easily.

“What’s her name?”

Katya opens her mouth, still unsure what to say. She’s never said  _ Trixie _ out loud to someone else, and she’s reluctant to waste the first time on him when he doesn’t know what that name means to her. 

“Coach Mattel.”

He laughs. “God, you really are a piece of work.” Katya just shrugs. There is nothing else to say. She can see in his face that he’s debating whether or not to speak up about something.

“What? Just spit it out,” she pushes with another roll of her eyes. 

After a moment of hesitation he asks, “Is not talking to her really worth the risk of losing her?”

The question knocks all the air out of her. It’s only reminding her of the frustration she felt in Trixie the last time they saw each other. Whatever they have is slipping from her grasp and will hit the floor soon if she doesn’t do something. 

“Telling her might just speed that up,” she argues, and it’s true, but she knows that he’s still right.

“If you like her so much that it puts you in this state, she deserves to know. We’re not at an age anymore where we pursue people for as long as I did back in the day. At least I hope she has more dignity than that.” There is no trace of humor in Brian’s voice. “Don’t make her feel like she has to convince you to be with her.”

Just like that there’s a thick, painful lump in Katya’s throat. She knows it’s what she did to him, but he’s never said it this plainly before. 

“I never meant to--”

“I know,” he interrupts her calmly. “Your intentions are never bad. I don’t think anything would have made a difference for us in the end. We just weren’t meant to be.” It’s a fact they’re both aware of. Its sharp edges have started to smooth out like sea glass slowly getting worn round by sand and salt. “Maybe you and her are, but you’ll have to actually say something to find out.” He smiles, and it makes his face look sadder. “The Katenka I know doesn’t let fear get in her way.”

It’s a fucking low blow to throw her childhood nickname in her face, mainly because it works. The Katenka he knew hadn’t yet watched her marriage fall apart; hadn’t known the kind of fear she now knows, that this just might be all there is. He’s right; it  _ isn’t _ like her. As she mulls it over, he pokes her thigh again.

“If it goes wrong, you can blame it on me. That’s what ex-husbands are for.”

She snorts. “Oh, fuck all the way off.” In that exact moment the door opens, and Ava looks at them with a frown.

“Are you fighting? Why is Dad still here?”

“We’re not fighting, we’re just having coffee and talking,” Brian reassures her, but she doesn’t look convinced.

“Mom said something I’m not allowed to say.”

“Nope, definitely not!” Katya says with a grin. It’s not the first time Ava has overheard them talk to each other like this, but the context is different now. It's comforting to restore a bit of their old life, knowing they get to have things like this again. It makes her wonder why they waited so long to get divorced, but that's a can of worms she doesn't need to open. No good will come of that. Instead, she should focus on how to move on, not just with their family, but also with Trixie.

They hug for a long time before Brian leaves, and it puts something back in the right place inside Katya that she hadn’t realized was rattling around loosely before.

*

The next time they meet up in Trixie's office is the nail in the coffin if she doesn't do anything; Katya can feel it. Trixie just looks sad, and they don't go further than hands on hips before Katya pulls back. For a moment she's sure she's going to go through with it, say everything that's on her mind and let it all spill out for Trixie to do with what she wants. But then she opens her mouth and nothing comes out of it.

She desperately grasps Trixie's hand and squeezes, trying to say _ ‘You know! You can see me, can’t you?’  _ before letting go and hurrying back to her car before she starts crying. Katya barely manages to pull out of the school parking lot and onto that of a nearby supermarket. She can’t risk Trixie seeing her like that.

On Saturday, when they arrive at the soccer field, Trixie doesn't speak to her, doesn't even look at her. She's kind to Ava, as she always is, but she manages to avoid Katya completely. They lose the game. Nobody hangs around after Trixie gives a speech to the kids that they played a great game and that there’s no need to feel bad. 

She drives Ava over to Brian’s place later, which leaves her alone until Tuesday night, and she can’t bring herself to return home right away. She goes to Target first, getting groceries for the next week along with a new set of cookware that she has no use for but that gave her an excuse to hang around there for a little longer. As she finishes putting everything in the car, her phone dings in her pocket. Against her better judgement she hopes that it’s Trixie. It isn’t, of course not. 

Her friend Ginger is asking if she wants to go out for dinner with the girls again next week, and Katya’s first instinct is that she doesn’t want to see anybody. Then she tells herself to stop being so mopey, and she texts back that she’d love to. Instead of slipping her phone back into her pocket she stares at the list of conversations. There aren’t a lot of them, at least not ones she cares about. Ginger is right there at the top, directly underneath is Brian who she texted earlier to let him know they were on the way to him now. Then there’s the soccer group chat that Katya keeps muted and only checks when she sees  _ Coach Mattel _ pop up. 

She taps the button for a new conversation and scrolls through her contacts until she finds Trixie. She could text her. People do that. Brian’s words keep playing in her mind.  _ Is not talking to her worth the risk of losing her?  _

Katya might have already lost her. 

_ I think we should talk. Come by tomorrow at 3? _

She hits send before she can overthink it any more and follows it up with her address. Trixie reads it almost immediately, and then nothing happens. Katya only puts her phone away when somebody honks at her for blocking a parking spot in a half-empty parking lot, and the adrenaline from texting Trixie makes her hang her head out of the open window.

“Find a different spot, asshole!” she yells, and in return gets flipped off by the twenty-something in a ridiculous sports car waiting behind her. She waits until he’s gone to start the engine and reluctantly drive home. On the way her phone dings again, but she forgot to connect it to the hands-free car kit, so she has to wait until she reaches a red light to check it. 

_ Okay _ , is all Trixie has written. For the rest of the day Katya goes back and forth between relief that Trixie agreed to come, that she answered at all, and anxiety swelling up in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

*

Katya is always up early, but on Sunday she awakes with the world still dark and quiet outside her window. She tries to go back to sleep for an hour, but her mind keeps conjuring up images of Trixie in the house. She imagines her stepping through the front door only to immediately wind her arms around Katya’s neck and kiss her until they’re both lightheaded. Katya pictures her sitting on the couch with her feet pulled up in the cushions, sipping a glass of wine. The one that makes Katya’s chest cave in with longing is the image of Trixie in pyjamas and with messy hair padding into the kitchen on bare feet to make coffee, confidently reaching for what she needs from the cupboards, still only half-awake.

A cold shower helps Katya to get her thoughts back on track. She only decides afterwards to go for a run. She takes her longer route but finishes it in the time it usually takes her to do the short one. Her heart is thundering in her chest, and her sweatshirt is soaked, so she takes another shower. She skips breakfast, her stomach too queasy to eat anything, but settles on the couch with a cup of coffee and her laptop. Her inbox had been particularly neglected in the last couple of days. She answers a number of emails that “urgently required her input” five days ago, and doesn’t have the energy to beat herself up about it. 

When she absolutely doesn’t have it in herself to care anymore, she puts the laptop away, and turns to Netflix. Her watchlist is full of history and crime documentaries that she knows she couldn’t focus on right now. Instead she navigates to comedy shows and picks one that the soccer moms have been complaining about in the group chat because it’s too vulgar. She enjoys it out of spite. Her hunger finally demands attention, and Katya pours herself a bowl of Ava’s Fruity Pebbles. It’s been years since she’s had a sugary cereal, and it’s disgusting. She goes to refill her bowl immediately when she’s finished the first. 

An hour before Trixie is supposed to arrive, Katya puts her bowl in the dishwasher and goes upstairs to get ready. She hasn’t taken an hour to get ready for anything since before she had Ava. 

The bedroom is the only thing in the house she had redone when Brian moved out. She could deal with the living room missing his books, and his favourite coffee mug being gone from the kitchen cabinet. He took the bread maker that Katya had bought in an attempt at domesticity and used once before banning it to the back of a cupboard. She had sliced up the bread, and Brian and Ava had made appreciative noises as they chewed. Katya herself had taken one bite, barely managed to swallow it before calmly declaring it complete garbage, and only then had Brian exclaimed  _ thank god  _ and Ava had spit hers out. Katya then realized that she’d forgotten the salt. They’d ordered pizza and ate it on a blanket spread out on the living room floor for an indoor picnic. That memory is the only worth that bread maker has, and she thinks Brian only took it to take  _ something _ .

In the bedroom it was obvious that somebody was missing. Even though Brian didn’t have a huge wardrobe, the walk-in closet was suddenly so empty. When they’d moved in, Katya had restrained herself with the decor, sticking with neutral colors and white furniture. Once he was gone, sleeping on her side of the bed made her cry because the other side was nobody’s, so she had moved to the guest bedroom. Meanwhile, the cream-colored walls were being painted a mauvy shade that made the whole room cozier. The old furniture was donated and replaced with dark wood pieces, all vaguely Art Nouveau with their curved legs, including a vanity with a large oval mirror.

She curls her hair loosely, soft waves like the moms in TV shows all happen to already wake up with every day. She does her makeup distinctly not like any of the moms on TV. She started wearing red lipstick again, trying to find the Katya from almost two decades ago who wasn’t married, wasn’t even looking for anything serious. When she’d gone off to college, she had rebelled against her proper upbringing with cheap drugstore makeup but lots of it, black leather, and a distinctly pussy-like lily tattoo on her hip that to this day her parents don’t know about. She also had a short-lived nose piercing she got at a shop that had evidently not been the cleanest since it got infected pretty badly, not helped by her refusing to take it out for a month. In the end she had to, her nose red, hot and aching. It only left behind a small scar that’s invisible once she’s put makeup on.

Red lipstick can’t bring that girl back. Too much has happened to her; nothing bad, just life. The salesgirl at the MAC counter had suggested something muted, something professional, maybe like a rust tone, and Katya had only raised one eyebrow at her and picked the deep red. She had worn it the first time out to dinner with her college friends who had reconnected with her after the divorce, clearly trying to save her from loneliness. Katya was grateful for it. 

Ginger had told her she looked like a whore, Alaska had called her a MILF, and Katya had shaken her hair, given a fake moan with her tongue out, making all of them dissolve into laughter loud enough for people to turn around to them. She didn’t mind the new Katya with the new red lipstick.

She’s filled the empty space in the walk-in closet with clothes she’s had in boxes in the attic since they moved in. When they’d moved from their old apartment to the house she had stuffed them away quickly and had never bothered to unpack them. She’d been trying to become a mom; leather didn’t go well with a diaper bag.

Everything she didn’t fit into anymore but that was still in good condition she had donated, and said nothing when the teenage girl looking through the bags had called them vintage clothes. The rest she had hung up in the space that Brian’s suits and dress shirts that he hated so much used to occupy. She had always stuck to deep and dark tones, even when she was supposed to be a radiant nymph, hugging her baby bump in a flowy white dress in the middle of a field of wildflowers. Or whatever pregnant women were supposed to do. With the addition of her old clothes, black has become the majority of her wardrobe. It’s also given a new edge to her simple but elegant business attire and her practical mom clothes. 

She doesn’t pick any of the tight, slightly gothy things that greet her now. Instead she goes with a soft black sweater, gone slightly grey from being washed so often. She pairs it with her favourite loose-fitting jeans, and finally puts on a pair of socks with little stars and moons on them that Ava picked out for her the last time they’d gone shopping together. It’s not a hook-up look; it’s not supposed to be. She didn’t invite Trixie here to do what they always do. Katya wants to talk. 

She doesn’t know what she’s going to say, exactly. Every time she started thinking about it in the last few days, she had immediately panicked, so she’d shut it down again. But she knows that she wants to offer Trixie more than what they have now, and apologize if Trixie lets her. Maybe even grovel a little. And if Trixie says she doesn’t want any of that, Katya can start to work on moving on. She’s got experience with that now.

Katya is still upstairs fiddling with her hair when the doorbell rings, and she makes it down the steps in a tempo she would softly admonish Ava for. She can see Trixie’s washed-out shape through the milky glass of the front door. It means that Trixie can see her too, so Katya can’t take a moment to breathe and calm herself down. She opens the door with her heartbeat loud in her ears. 

It really is Trixie standing in front of her door. It seems unreal, and it’s not helped by her wearing a light pink summer dress that falls to her knees. Her feet are in little strappy white sandals, and in one hand she’s tightly clutching a purse. Katya has never seen her like this, but she looks like the Trixie from the numerous fantasies Katya has of them going on dates. This look could be for eating ice cream on the pier or going to the fair; picturesque things that Katya has never done. Trixie is even wearing makeup, her lashes long and dark, her lips pink and glossy. Only her hair is the same: pulled tightly into two French braids. Her expression is tense.

“Hi.” Katya gives her an uncertain smile that Trixie doesn’t return, and she steps to the side to let Trixie in. 

The heels of her shoes clack on the floor as she steps inside, but that is apparently as far as Trixie is willing to move. She only looks around for a moment when Katya invites her into the living room once she’s closed the front door.

“What am I doing here?”

It’s impossible to determine what goal Trixie has in mind based on her tone. 

“I wanted to talk to you about… what we’ve been doing,” Katya explains slowly, finding it hard to look Trixie in the eyes.

“Having sex, you mean,” Trixie says with raised brows.

“Uh, yeah.” Katya scratches her head to give her hands something to do. “Can we sit down? I wanna--”

“If you want to talk, talk,” Trixie interrupts her. “I can listen standing up.”

Katya swallows. “Right.” For a moment she just stands there, trying to find a place to start. “I just… I want you to know that--” She sighs. 

“What do you want? What do you  _ really _ want?” Trixie asks, not with the breathless anticipation Katya has become familiar with but with anger. It makes her audibly breathe through her nose, her brows pull together, and her jaw shifts slightly forward. In another situation Katya would tell her how hot she looks like this -- because she does -- but having Trixie’s anger directed towards her makes Katya squirm, and not in a pleasant way. 

Katya swallows, opens her mouth, and closes it again. Sex is easy, until it isn’t. 

Trixie watches her for a moment, before turning her eyes away, slightly shaking her head, the corners of her mouth downturned. 

“Fuck this. If you can’t be an adult, I don’t need you around.”

Panic washes through Katya as Trixie turns to leave. She takes a few steps in her direction, her sock feet making no noise on the hardwood floor, and it irritates her. Trixie leaving can’t be a silent affair.

“Trixie.” Her panic finally spills over, and Trixie whips around to her.

“How do you know that name?” she asks, still furious, and instinctively Katya takes a step back.

“I-- I overheard you on the phone. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it.”

“No.” Trixie closes her eyes, and it’s enough to make her look upset instead of mad. There are tears clinging to her lashes when she opens them, but she steadily meets Katya’s gaze. “Say it again.” 

It’s not a question but an order, and Katya exhales with relief.

“Trixie.” She steps closer again. “What I want is…” Trixie crosses her arms in front of her chest. No more stepping backwards, no more evading, Katya tells herself. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you until we’re both dizzy. I’ve wanted to ever since I first talked to you.”

Trixie sniffs. “Well, I’m not stopping you,” she says in a sullen tone, and does nothing to make herself look more inviting. She’s no longer leaving; that’s the best Katya can hope for. 

With both hands, Katya reaches out to Trixie as she steps into her space. She carefully rests them on Trixie’s upper arms, not gripping her, just feeling her skin against her fingers. Trixie looks down at her with a slight frown. 

“Trixie,” she says again, softer this time, and Trixie’s expression smoothes out. “Can I kiss you?”

A desperate little laugh wrings itself from Trixie’s mouth. “Yes! God, yes.”

It’s the permission Katya has wanted to ask for all this time. With her hands still on Trixie’s arms, she pulls, and at the same time pushes up on her toes. Their noses bump together and their mouths meet a little too hard. Katya doesn’t care. She has Trixie’s lipgloss-sticky mouth against hers, and she’s not going to let her go again. She gently presses her tongue against the seam of Trixie’s lips, and she sags against Katya like a marionette whose strings have been cut when Katya tentatively licks into her mouth. Trixie's arms uncross, and her fingers wind into Katya’s sweater. Her purse clatters to the ground in between them, and neither of them pays any attention to it. 

Katya doesn’t know how long it lasts. Both their hands start wandering, and when they finally part with heavy breaths, Katya is cupping Trixie’s face while she has her hands wound tightly in Katya’s hair. 

“Katya.” Trixie’s voice is barely there at all when she says it, but it hits Katya like a punch in the chest, her mouth falling open. She leans her forehead against Trixie’s, feeling her hot breath puff gently against her own face. 

“You could have done that a long time ago,” Trixie whispers with a smile Katya can hear more than she can see it. Still leaning against Trixie, she lightly shakes her head.

“I needed to ask, first. You needed to say yes.”

“I told you, I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

Still with her forehead against Trixie’s, Katya shakes her head. “That’s not a yes.”

"Well, it is now."

Katya smiles and kisses Trixie again, just because she can. Then she takes a deep breath.

"What do  _ you _ want?" she asks for the first time ever.

Trixie's smile becomes a little watery again as she answers, "I want you to be nice to me." It breaks Katya's heart a little, and she lets her head sink against Trixie's shoulder in shame. "I want to go on movie dates and out to dinner," Trixie carries on, still audibly on the verge of tears but nonetheless determined. "I want to stay the night at your place and have you come over to mine. I want to have a space in your life, and I want Ava to know."

Katya dryly sobs against her dress. "Yeah." She swallows down the knot in her throat and raises her head. Meeting Trixie's eyes, she nods and repeats, "Yeah. I want that too."

This time Trixie pulls her in for a kiss, and it’s soft and indulgent, meant to comfort both of them.

“I’m so sorry, Trixie,” Katya murmurs against Trixie’s face with her eyes closed, and Trixie hums in acknowledgement.

“You know, at first I thought I was doing us both a favor by just letting you fuck me. I thought I could live with you only wanting sex. But it became obvious pretty soon that you didn’t only want sex. Why didn’t you tell me what you wanted? I asked every time.” Her voice is so soft and right next to Katya’s ear.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to want what I wanted,” Katya admits, and then even more quietly, “I didn’t think I deserved it.”

Trixie brushes the hair from Katya’s face and pulls back far enough that she can look at her. “And now?”

“Now I don’t care, I want it anyway,” Katya says through a pathetic little laugh and sniffs. Trixie looks at her with her face smooth and calm.

“Katya,” she starts gently, “of course you deserve all of that. You get to have somebody who cares about you and who you get to care about. Everyone does. And you deserve me being that person because I say so.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Katya concedes with the hopeful beginnings of a smile. She kisses Trixie again, still delirious with the knowledge that Trixie wants her to. Trixie meets her enthusiastically, grinning into her mouth.

“Now would be a good time for you to start being nice to me,” she says when they pull apart, and Katya shrieks, partly out of surprise, partly out of joy that Trixie is being like this with her. 

She drops to her knees, and her hands start reaching for the hem of Trixie’s dress, but Trixie’s fingers wrapping around her wrist stop her.

“Oh no, honey, not like this. Not here.”

Katya blinks a few times and then looks around her hallway. She forgot that’s where they were. 

“Oh. Right.”

With her index finger, Trixie tilts Katya’s chin up so she’s looking up at her. 

“Take me to bed.”

Katya is back on her feet so fast that Trixie laughs. If she thought she could do it, she would carry Trixie up the stairs bridal-style, but she settles for gripping Trixie’s hand tightly in her own and pulling her to the bedroom.

It's not the same bed that she used to fuck Brian in, and it feels like she got this one specifically so she could spread Trixie out on it. But first she takes great care undressing Trixie. They’ve never done this part before, not like this. Until now, they only ever pushed down what was in the way. Katya starts by kneeling on the rug in front of her bed and undoing the clasps of Trixie’s shoes, sliding them off her feet, while Trixie has one hand on her shoulder to help her keep her balance. 

The dress is next. Katya slides the zipper at the back down and pushes the fabric forward so Trixie can slide her arms out of the short sleeves. It pools around Trixie’s feet when it drops, and Katya picks it up after Trixie has stepped out of it. Katya lays it over the back of the chair in front of her vanity, smoothing her hand over it. When she turns around, Trixie is regarding her with a small smile. She’s only in her bra and panties now, a cream-colored, vintage looking set that fits her like it was made for her. 

“Wow,” Katya breathes, taking her in. She’s never seen all of Trixie before, not at once, and the last bit of air she still had disappears when Trixie unclasps the bra and shrugs out of it. She dangles it from one strap, holding it out to Katya, and it takes her a moment to realize what Trixie wants her to do. She takes the bra and puts it over the back of the chair as well. Satisfied, Trixie hooks two fingers into the high waistband of her underwear and starts pushing them down. She hands those to Katya too, and she folds them up, placing them on the seat of the chair.

“You’re so soft,” she says when she lets herself look at Trixie. She’s no longer Coach Mattel, except for one thing. Katya steps closer to Trixie, concentrating hard so she doesn’t get too caught up yet in Trixie’s naked body so close to hers. She reaches out for the ends of Trixie’s braids and rolls down the little clear elastics, dropping them on her vanity. The braids separate in Katya’s hands, and she combs her fingers through the strands. Then she rests the golden waves against Trixie’s chest carefully, satisfied with having removed the last piece of her uniform.

Now she’s Trixie. 

Katya isn’t nearly as precious with her own clothes. Her sweater and jeans come off quickly and she chucks them in the general direction of the hamper, fairly sure she missed, but she doesn’t bother checking.

“Those are cute,” Trixie says with a grin, nodding down at Katya’s socks. 

“Thanks, they’re my favorite,” Katya says truthfully while balancing first on one foot and then the other to pull them off. She feels a little silly for not planning for this to happen, but she doesn’t linger on her underwear being not nearly as enticing as Trixie's. She takes off the black shirt bra she has on, and then makes quick work of her panties, but when she wants to throw them into the hamper Trixie stops her.

“No, put them with mine.”

Katya stops in confusion. “Why?”

“Because the ones I already have don’t smell like you anymore, and I need something to jerk off to,” Trixie explains like that’s a normal thing to say, and Katya’s jaw drops.

“You kept them!” She had wondered what happened to the underwear she accidentally left behind the first time they hooked up.

Trixie scoffs. “Duh.”

Katya does as she’s told and places them on top of Trixie’s underwear. “Am I gonna get those back?”

“You can exchange them.” Trixie grins. “I got the other pair in my purse.”

Katya groans. “Of course you do.” Then Trixie and her look at each other and giggle. This is what Katya wanted all along. She surges forward and Trixie shrieks when Katya grabs her around the waist so suddenly. They hit the bed together, Trixie landing on top of Katya. She had maybe miscalculated how heavy she would be, and it takes Katya a moment to get some air back into her lungs. Then she rolls them over and pushes herself up on her hands so she’s hovering above Trixie.

“What do you like?” 

“You.” Trixie smiles so wide that her warm eyes crinkle with it, and Katya ducks down to give her soft stomach a kiss.

“How exactly do you want me to be nice to you?” she clarifies, kissing up Trixie’s torso. She lingers on her breasts because how could she not? Trixie presses her chest up against Katya’s mouth, sighing softly. 

“I want you to do what you’ve been fantasizing about, the things you’ve really wanted but didn’t dare say to me,” she finally settles on, her voice gentle and sounding a little rough, as if she only just woke up.

Katya smiles against her skin. “I don’t think we have time for all of that.”

“We’ll get started. We can finish the list another time.”

Cupping Trixie’s face in both hands, Katya leans in to kiss her properly. There will be another time, many other times, to do what she’s been dreaming of and figure out new things they want together.

“Give me one sec.” She gives Trixie a parting kiss, and then hangs her head off the bed to rummage through her bedside drawer. Dividing up their toys had to be the most bizarre part of the divorce. They had both stood over the drawer, with no idea how to go about this, and started laughing after an uncomfortably long silence. Brian had taken a dildo, more for old time’s sake than anything else. Katya threw out a few things, and it gave her the perfect opportunity to go on a little shopping spree.

She hadn’t picked this dildo with Trixie in mind, but it feels right that Trixie is the one she’s using it with. It’s clear glass, except for the handle that’s a pink heart. Katya had bought it because it was so different from any other toy she had ever owned and she wanted to know how it made her feel. Pretty fucking good, was the answer. 

She holds it out to Trixie with an inquisitive  _ hm _ while picking up a bottle of lube with the other hand.

“Ooooh, pretty,” Trixie coos, and Katya smiles at getting it right. 

As soon as Katya is back in reach, Trixie pulls her down against her own body and kisses her.

“Just so you know,” she pants when she pulls back, “I’ve wanted this ever since we met, too.”

Katya knew right away from the way Trixie looked at her, but it still feels so good to hear it, and she kisses Trixie again. They have months of missed kisses to catch up on. Then she sits up between Trixie’s spread legs. She looks so perfect in Katya’s bed.

“Trixie,” she murmurs. It’s finally hers to say. 

“Katya,” comes Trixie’s soft reply. It turns into a moan when Katya places her palm against her, and Trixie starts grinding against her right away. Katya lets her for a moment before putting her other hand on Trixie’s hip bone and pressing her down into the mattress. 

“You’re going to have to behave if you want me to fuck you.”

Trixie keens, but holds still. As a reward, Katya rubs her thumb over Trixie’s swollen clit, and she twitches. Katya knows she didn’t mean to, but she still slaps the inside of her thigh, not hard enough to hurt, just as a reminder.

“Please,” Trixie whines. 

“Please what?” Katya asks with her smile growing.

“Please fuck me,” Trixie manages to press out.

Katya cocks her head to the side and puts on a frown. “But I like just looking at you.” It’s not a lie; Katya would be happy to spend hours and hours taking in Trixie’s form. All the softness covering up solid muscle that she knows is there from the way Trixie moves. The way her hair puffs up when it’s freed from the braids. How her collarbones glisten with sweat in the afternoon sun falling in through the windows, and how her fingers dig into Katya’s sheets.

“You said you’d be nice to me.” 

Katya laughs at the accusation in Trixie’s voice, and leans over her to kiss her again. 

“I think being nice to you always means being a little mean, too.” As she says it, she already grabs the lube and opens it. The  _ clack  _ is loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom, the starting signal for Katya’s hands to start shaking with the anticipation of what they’re about to do.

Trixie sucks air in through her teeth when Katya starts pushing into her.

“Cold,” she gasps, and Katya hums. She loves the added sensory experience of the glass slowly heating up inside of her, as well as the weight it has. With Trixie, she’s learning, she loves to slide it in until all that remains is the heart in her hand up against Trixie’s skin.

Trixie’s eyes are squeezed shut and she’s panting before Katya has even started moving. With the hand that isn’t holding the dildo, Katya brushes over Trixie’s stomach, upwards until her fingers are resting on her chest. She thinks she can feel Trixie’s heartbeat underneath her ribs.

“Trixie,” she says to get her attention, and her face relaxes as she opens her eyes and meets Katya’s. “I’ve got you now.” 

Trixie’s expression is grateful, and Katya can see her body let go. As Katya’s arm starts moving, she melts deeper into the sheets. Now her eyes are almost closed, but never quite leaving Katya, and her face is smooth and soft. Katya can’t help but move up her body, skin dragging against skin, not stopping to fuck her.

“This is what I’ve secretly thought about,” she confesses against Trixie’s cheek, “making you come while I kiss you.” She didn’t expect Trixie to groan in response and grasp her with both hands. She holds Katya’s face above hers, and her open mouth pulls into a smile.

“Then make me.”

Katya’s arm speeds up as she pushes her tongue into Trixie’s mouth. She isn’t the one getting fucked, but all her nerve endings are on high alert. She’s engulfed in Trixie with all her senses. When Trixie shakes underneath Katya with her orgasm, repeating her name until it stops making sense in her ears, Katya feels solid, tethered in herself, in a way she hasn’t in a long time.

The opposite happens when Trixie makes them switch positions and crawls between Katya’s legs. Until then she had forgotten how much she wanted Trixie to touch her too, and it feels like she watches from above as Trixie eats her out, slowly for the first time, not with the goal to make her come as fast as possible. It’s torture, and Katya wants to die with Trixie’s tongue on her. For a few seconds she does. Then Trixie is in her arms, and Katya is herself again. 

Trixie is the one to finally break the silence.

"I thought you liked the braids."

Katya has to blink a few times to give her brain time to catch up.

"I do, but I like this more." Her fingers slide through Trixie's thick hair from the base of her skull upwards, and then outwards a little until she gets a good fistful. She tugs slowly but unforgivingly. "I can pull like this too."

Trixie's mouth falls open, but no sound leaves it. Then she swallows.

“I will remind you occasionally.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to,” Katya murmurs against Trixie’s cheek with a satisfied smile. “If I didn’t just have a full out-of-body experience, I’d show you.”

Trixie hums and presses herself even closer to Katya. 

“We have time.”

Katya doesn’t know if she’s referring to today or to them in general. A whole lifetime stretching out in front of her, if she gets very lucky. It reminds her that there’s something she needs to get out, and nerves flare up in her belly. She scoots away from Trixie far enough that she can look at her face.

"I just, uh, wanted you to know that I'm bisexual."

Trixie blinks a few times. "Yes, I put that together when I found out you had a husband and then you made me eat you out in my office."

Katya rolls her eyes. "No, I just mean… I don't know. That I'm sure, I guess. I'm not experimenting because I'm divorced or having a midlife crisis. I really want to be with you. I’m sure."

Trixie's face softens. "I know that." She kisses Katya with one hand cupping her cheek. Then she grins. "I did not for one second think that you were a straight person."

Katya grins back. "Okay, good. Just needed to see if I still got it." There’s a brief moment of silence.

"I want to get married," Trixie says then, without preamble, and Katya's mouth drops open, her heart in her throat.

"I've only been divorced for a few months, so can we maybe cool it on that?"

"Oh God, I don't mean us, right now!" Trixie quickly clarifies. "I'm saying that I've always wanted to be married, and for me that's the end goal. There's no time limit on it. I just want you to know that that's what I want. I'm not suggesting we get married right now."

"Right." Katya's heart is still beating rapidly in her chest. "I liked being a wife. One day, I'd like to be one again," she says quietly and presses a kiss to Trixie's shoulder. “For now, is it enough if you stay the night?”

Trixie doesn’t say anything. She just smiles in a way that Katya is seeing for the first time: truly content. She hopes she’ll get to see a lot of that smile.

*

"Hi Mom, hi Trixie, bye Dad!" Ava is up the stairs approximately two seconds after Katya has opened the door for her and Brian.

She adjusted quickly to Trixie no longer being just her soccer coach. It helps that she doesn't have to sit in a classroom with Trixie at the blackboard. At first, Trixie only came over when Ava was with Brian, and they slowly tried out what it was like for them all to be at the house together. It turned out to be a non-issue. At home she's Trixie, at practice she's still Coach. Ava liked her before and she likes her more now.

"Hey, do you wanna come in for a bit? We're having a little celebration." Katya steps back to let Brian in.

"Sure." 

Katya leaves him to close the front door, and walks through the kitchen towards the sliding door leading out to the patio.

"What are we celebrating?" Brian asks as they step outside, where Trixie is sitting with her shades on and a homemade iced coffee in hand. It's not really warm enough for that, but it's March and the first really sunny day of the year.

"I terminated my lease today," Trixie answers with a big smile. "In three months I will have moved in here officially."

"Congratulations, that's huge!" With wide eyes he looks from Trixie to Katya and back. Katya goes back inside to make him an iced coffee, too. 

Brian and Trixie got on like a house on fire from the second they met. Whether their ex-husband and new girlfriend will get along is probably not something other people worry about, but it was a huge relief to Katya. At least until they started ganging up on her.

"So, anything new with you?" Katya asks when she hands Brian his coffee, interrupting what she's sure is the laughter following a hilarious inside joke for people who have been or are currently dating her. She sits down next to Trixie, resting a hand on her thigh, and with the other reaches for her own drink. Most of the ice has already melted.

"I met someone," he says with a huge smile.

"Really?" Katya asks around the metal straw in her mouth.

His smile gets even bigger. "His name is Brian."

"Oh my God, that's so gay," Trixie says and lets her mouth hang open.

"Bold words coming from the woman who's currently boning my ex-wife." He takes a sip of his iced coffee to hide his grin.

"Shut up!" Trixie caws, and half-heartedly kicks one leg out towards his shin, not even coming close to making contact. "Not  _ currently _ ."

“Trixie! You could have said something, I would have taken my pants off,” Katya joins in.

“I hate you,” Trixie giggles.

“You love me.”

“I do,” Trixie agrees right away, and Katya squeezes her leg twice.

They both hug Brian before he leaves and make him promise to bring the other Brian around for coffee some time. Afterwards, Trixie gets dinner started, and Katya folds a pile of laundry that’s been waiting for her all week. It’s an unremarkable day, and that in itself makes it special. Trixie is with her a lot of the time already, and in a few short weeks she will be all the time. They haven’t talked about marriage again since that first day, but it’s on Katya’s mind. She’s not there yet, and Trixie doesn’t rush her, but Katya is excited for the time when she feels ready. 

This is the new now, and Katya can't wait to get where they're headed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think! Comments make my gay little heart so happy. You can also talk to me on tumblr where I'm [@connyhascontrol](https://connyhascontrol.tumblr.com/).


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